****WARNING: Sensitive content, if you have a history of abuse, this may trigger you. Please do not read if you have a history of abuse****
I was peacefully sleeping when suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my head, waking me up. My dad stood over me, his face darkened in anger. "This is how you do huh?" he screams in broken english, "You just going to not listen to me?" He hits me again and again, shouting profanities at me. "You slut! You going to put the family in shame with the way that you act!" He was so angry that he switched to our native tongue. "Who gave you permission to leave the house?" At this point I note that what he was hitting me with was a glass measuring cup. Thinking on it later in life, I would find it rather funny that it was the first thing he happened to grab, even remembering that it was for 2 cups of whatever, but right now all I felt was pain and unadulterated fear.
"Sorry dad! I'm sorry! Please stop!!" I begged and begged for him to stop, looking toward the door and noticing my mom standing there quietly. I couldn't see the expression she was making but her silhouette was so tiny leaning up against the frame. Still, he continues to hammer that measuring cup down on me, hitting wherever he could reach and screaming at me about how I went against the family values and am a horrible person, how I should be happy with what I had and why was it that I couldn't just stay home like a good girl?
I felt the rain of hits become harder and harder as he became more and more angry. At this point, I turn to my mom and beg her to help me. She runs up to him and puts her hand around his offending arm. "Noh, That's enough," she said quietly but firmly in our native tongue. "She learned her lesson now leave it be." At this point though, he was so angry he couldn't hear what anyone was saying.
"You are the reason why this whole family will fall apart!" He screams at me, his face ruddy, his spit flying in the air as he flings my mom away and makes a rush toward me again, swinging that ridiculous measuring cup in his hand. I quaked in fear, screaming for someone, anyone to help. Again, my mom rushes to my rescue. She throws her whole body against him, pushing him against my bedroom door. There is a mad struggle for a second, my mind blanking, still unbelieving even though this has happened on multiple occasions throughout my young life, and she finally pushes him out of my bedroom.
"Zu Chiman close the door and lock it!" mom says in the most quiet yet loud voice I'd ever heard and have heard since. I jumped out of bed and leaned against the door, praying my meager strength would be enough to hold up against the monster on the other side, and locked it, still crying. I hear banging sounds come from my parents room and can only pray that my mom will be okay. I stay up, listening and waiting for the noise to die down.
My mom shouted out a couple times but eventually, it did quiet down. I lay in bed sniffling, cursing myself for being born into a family like this. At that point, I wished I was anywhere but where I was. That night, or was it early morning? I promised myself that I would never go on dates again so long as I was under the house of that man. I didn't wish for any more pain. I also don't wish for my mom to have to deal with stuff like this anymore.